


Falling is Easy, It’s getting back Up that’s the Hard Part

by MsGeorgie



Series: Baker Street Bonding [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Lestrade, Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Mycroft, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Omega John, Parentlock, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sherlock, Post-Reichenbach, Reconciliation, Sequel, cuddly hedgehog, from baby Holmes, lil bit of Mystrade in here too, no really, there's a cuddly hedgehog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2115096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsGeorgie/pseuds/MsGeorgie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two years since  Sherlock fell and John has somehow managed to muddle through with the help of his adorable, if somewhat possessive, daughter but things are about to get complicated for him because his Alpha has managed to spring back to life and is expecting John to be waiting in 221B with Charlotte, ready to welcome the detective home. </p>
<p>One does wonder when Sherlock will learn, that John Watson-Holmes never does what Sherlock expects him too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John's Journey

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again! ^^  
> I just wanted to let you guys know that I will be updating as frequently as I can but if there's a bit of a delay between chapters, there's probably a good reason and you should always expect a chapter to pop along at some point until I'm done :D I only say that because I know you worry ^_^ so... y'know don't XD
> 
>  
> 
> Once again, I don't own Sherlock

The night before John had met Sherlock Holmes, he’d had a nightmare about the warzone he had been forced out of because of a gunshot and a limp, forty eight hours later he was tearing through the civilian battlefield that was London, running as fast as he could after a genius madman in a bellstaff coat, shooting killer cabbies and eating Dim-Sum. The rush had been indescribable and was part of the reason he’d moved into 221B the next day. It was the best decision he’d ever made, proven by how rarely he had nightmares but that was because he knew Sherlock, in all his madness, would always be there to chase them away, and he was… until he fell.

It had taken some time for it to finally sink in that Sherlock was gone, that 221B was no longer the comforting haven Sherlock and John had made their home. It was just too farfetched for John to believe that Sherlock, his husband, his mate, his _indestructible_ Sherlock was really dead but when he finally did believe, when realization struck that Sherlock _had_ died, leaving him pregnant and alone, well, of course the nightmares came back.

At first it was just flashes from Afghanistan, images of soldiers falling in the dust, blood and gunfire but John was used to that, he could deal with that, what he couldn’t deal with was what came next. It was almost like John’s subconscious had a grudge against him, like it was self-aware and enjoyed inflicting pain on the poor Omega because just as quick as flipping a light switch the dreams changed and all John could hear was a familiar deep baritone telling him to stay still and the thump of a body hitting concrete.

He stopped sleeping after the third night, he stopped eating after the sixth, just too tired to move from the sofa any longer than a visit to the bathroom, he was in hospital by the fourteenth day with a drip hooked up to his arm and an irate Greg at his bedside.

“I know things are hard John but you have to think of that little one in there!” The DI had shouted, pointing at the Doctor’s large belly. Thinking back on it later, John realized that was the first time he’d cried since he’d watched Sherlock fall. Greg had felt so guilty for his outburst and held John close as he Omega gave deep heart wrenching sobs of pure misery and grief. It felt like he had cried for days but really it was only minutes before pure exhaustion took hold of him and he passed out in Greg’s arms, sinking so far into the dark that not even the nightmares could reach him.

When he had woken up again, it was to find he had been moved to a private room in the Maternity Ward at Bart’s. He really didn’t want to be there but the Doctors felt it was for the best to keep him admitted until the baby was born since he had a scare so close to his due date. Greg and Mrs. Hudson agreed and John knew that Mycroft Holmes was behind the whole affair, though the man at least had the decency to stay away from him.

Whilst he was there, the Doctors would give him small doses of something to help him sleep and was assured that it wouldn’t harm the baby since he never asked. Despite the Doctors and Greg’s constant mentions of the little one, John couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, he knew he was pregnant but it still stopped feeling real to him without his Alpha there to share it. Then the contractions hit and just like Sherlock had saved John’s life when he had been invalided home and was fading away in a ratty old bed sit, so did Sherlock’s daughter when she popped into the world, screaming with all the power her little lungs could muster.

Charlotte Elizabeth Watson-Holmes was born on the 3rd of December 2011 at 4:57am, weighing in at 7lb 8oz and as far as John was concerned, was the most beautiful baby girl the world had ever seen. She looked so much like Sherlock from her dusting of dark curls to her little pink toes and John fell in love with her instantly, only parting with her small form so both of them could get cleaned up. During the time she was out of his arms, John gave quick calls to Mrs. Hudson and Greg to let them know the good news and begged Mrs. Hudson to bring him something important from 221B, only hanging up when the nurses brought his daughter back, clean and dressed in a white onesie with matching hat and mittens.

When she was back in the safety of her father’s arms the little baby gave John a look he had seen somewhere else before, a look that said ‘ _Papa look what these idiots have done to me! Now go and fetch me my designer onesie_.’ John had just laughed at her and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t you worry baby, Papa’s asked your honorary Nana to bring you something that will sort that out.” He’d whispered when he pulled back, Charlotte gave a little coo of acceptance in response and an even louder squeak when a nurse came in the room carrying a bottle of warm milk for the little Holmes-Watson. John knew he should’ve been surprised at how active and observant his new-born was but given who her other father was, he supposed it wasn’t really so farfetched, the nurses seemed impressed though much to the delight of the baby suckling away at her bottle in his arms. He had been half-way through feeding Charlotte when Mrs. Hudson came in with a small bag tucked under her arm and larger one clasped in her hand.

“Oh John, she’s beautiful. She looks like Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson fussed and winced when she realised what she’d said, John could see the apology forming on her lips so he gave her a smile and shook his head.

“I know, that’s _why_ she’s so beautiful. I Think she’s took her height from me though, poor thing, she’s so tiny.” John swallowed eyes locked on his daughter who was starting to doze off in his arms, Mrs. Hudson smiled at the picture they made and wished Sherlock could’ve been there with them.

“Anyway, I brought that thing you wanted and I’ve packed you and Charlotte a clean set of clothes for coming home, there’s also some nappies and wipes in there too if you need them, John. Now I’m going to go back home to my bed, I’ll pop in later today when you’ve both had a rest.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Hudson, would you like a little cuddle before you go?” As tempting as it was, Mrs. Hudson shook her head.

“No, I can have one later. Poor girls already drooling.” She giggled and pecked John on the cheek before leaving. After she’d gone and John had fed and burped Charlotte, disturbing her enough to give a cry when he’d interrupted her doze.

“Hush love, Papa’s got something from your Daddy.” Charlotte sniffled, giving him a curious look when he pulled out a familiar strip of blue fabric to wrap loosely around his daughters neck.

“There, that’s better.” John’s breath hitched at the sight of his daughter wearing the tiny scarf Sherlock had bought all those months ago. Charlotte had seemed to agree with his assessment because as soon as he’s pulled his hands back she buried her face against the softness of the miniature scarf and fell back into her doze. John rocked the baby in his arms until he was sure she was fast asleep and laid her down amongst the blankets of the hospital issued cot at his bedside, hissing at a nurse to be quiet when she barged into the room.

“Sorry Mr. Watson-Holmes but I’m just came to take Charlotte off to the nursery so you can get some rest.” John snarled at her when she made to pick up his daughter making the nurse back off quickly.

“She’s going nowhere. You want me to rest peacefully tonight then you’ll get your arse out of here and leave my daughter be.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, sir. I’ll inform the nurses that Charlotte will be staying here during your stay but I do have to give you these pain killers and it’s an injection, will you let me do _that_ at least?” She said calmly, knowing how protective Omegas were of their children. John eyed her warily for a moment before approaching to receive the injection, he hissed at the sting but nodded in thanks anyway when the nurse finally left the room. His instincts still on high alert, John stayed vigil at his daughter’s side until he was sure no one was going to take her from him and then crawled into his bed exhausted and sore from everything that had happened, the painkillers added to his exhaustion and ensured he was asleep in seconds.

 

_///_

 

John’s subconscious must’ve decided he deserved a little treat that night because instead of nightmares of falling and blood staining the pavement, he dreamt that Sherlock had come to see him. Sherlock was bent over their daughter whispering to her and sniffling when John saw him, he tried to call out but couldn’t, even in a dream he felt so sluggish, it wasn’t until he saw Sherlock straighten and start to leave that he managed to get his body to do something, even if it was only to grab the man’s sleeve.

“Sh’lok is ‘at you?” The apparition stiffened and turned to face him slowly.

“ _No, it’s just a dream John, close your eyes_.” John didn’t care if it was a dream, it was just such a relief to hear that voice again, see those eyes, there was no way he was going to close his own, especially now the dream Sherlock had sat down beside him at his hip and dear God he was so _warm_.

“Don’ wanna. Miss you, don’ go.” Sherlock smiled sadly at him and John wanted nothing more to reach up and kiss it from his face, make him give a real smile, the ones he only showed to John.

“ _I miss you too but you have to close your eyes. You need to rest so you can look after Charlotte_.” Sherlock started stroking warm fingers down his arm and John perked up at the sound of his daughter’s name.

“Did you see her? Beut’ful isn’t she?” John smiled proudly, giving an internal cheer when Sherlock smiled back, all trace of sadness gone.

“ _Yes, she is_.”

“She’s so tiny Sh’lok, so tiny.” John whispered as if it was the most important thing in the world, wanting Sherlock to understand how much John and Charlotte needed him.

“ _That’s why you need to close your eyes John. She needs you to look after her because she’s so tiny and fragile and beautiful. C’mon, that’s it John, just close your eyes for me_.” The sound of Sherlock’s voice and the sensation of the fingers stroking over his arm, had John’s eyes drooping against his will. He didn’t want to fall back into complete oblivion yet, didn’t want to let go of this moment but no matter how hard he tried to fight it, darkness was creeping into the edge of his vision.

“Love you.” Was the last thing he managed before his eyes fell shut at last, wanting so desperately to respond to the gentle kiss he felt being pressed to his lips.

“ _Love you too_.” The last thing John heard before Charlotte’s hungry cry woke him up at 11:30am was the click of a door closing and although John knew that the visit from Sherlock was all just a dream, John swore he could still smell Sherlock’s scent clinging to the air whilst he fed his daughter.

It wasn’t until the following day that the hospital cleared John to take his daughter home to 221B, in fact the hospital had wanted him to remain there for another week just in case of any complications with John’s health but the Omega was practically climbing the walls and snarling at everyone who came in the room. He was just so desperate to get his daughter out of this unfamiliar place where people could just stroll in as they pleased and back into his own territory.

Greg more than anyone could see this when he came to visit John and meet Charlotte for the first time so he made a quick call to Mycroft when he’s gone to get a couple of coffees from the canteen and hey presto John was leaving the next day in the back of Greg’s car with his arm draped over Charlotte’s baby carrier, happy and relaxed to finally be out of that place.

“Why she looking at me like that do you think?” Greg asked halfway to Baker Street and John, who had been playing with Charlotte’s fingers, frowned at him.

“Like what?” He asked the Alpha.

“Well… know that look Sherlock got if I happened to get to close to you? Y’know, the one he developed after he found out you and I shared a heat?” The DI asked swallowing halfway through his questions, John frowned and nodded.

“Well take a look at your daughters face.” John did as he was told and sure enough, Charlotte was glaring at Greg like he was her arch nemesis. It was a shame she didn’t have any teeth yet because John was positive that if she did, she would be baring them at Greg just like Sherlock did, she had the death stare down to pat though.

“Oi you, be nice. Uncle Greg’s doing us a favour, taking us back home.” Charlotte’s expression changed the instant she heard John’s voice and instead of glaring at the DI she took to staring up at her father pleadingly and cooing gently as if trying to tell him why the Alpha needed to be glared at.

“Just like your daddy aren’t you? You just don’t like to share me.” John snorted when his daughter cooed louder and squeaked in delight that he understood what she was trying to tell him. John, amused by the display, smiled down at her enthusiastic response and bent over to lay little kisses over her face. Greg watched the whole thing from the rear view mirror and smiled sadly thinking to himself ‘ _You should be here Sherlock_ ’. It was with great reluctance that Greg disturbed the adorable scene in the back when they pulled up in front of 221B but he knew how badly John wanted to get the baby inside.

 

_///_

 

The Alpha DI couldn’t have been more right because the moment John stepped back into the familiar smell of the flat everything slotted into place and he felt a great relief to be home, Charlotte seemed to agree, squealing loudly until John pulled her up out of the carrier so she could have a look around and get used to the scent of the place, John was standing before the fireplace with Charlotte, who was fascinated with her reflection in the mirror above it, when Greg walked in carrying John’s bags.

“There you go. All sorted.” He grinned, John turned around to face him when he heard the DI’s voice much to Charlotte’s displeasure but a couple of well-placed kisses and nuzzles to her face placated her indignant noises and instead she just pouted up at John.

“Thanks Greg. Fancy a cup of tea for your troubles?” John smiled, looking up at his friend.

“Yeah, why not?”

“ABAHAA!” John jumped at the screech Charlotte gave and his eyes went wide when she let out a noise that couldn’t have possibly been a growl and yet was.

“Bloody hell. Like daddy, like daughter ae? Think I should just head off John, let little Miss Charlotte get acquainted with the flat.” Laughed Greg, already heading out the door, John frowned at his daughter.

“Greg wait. She growled, like a proper growl, I wasn’t hearing things right?” John fretted but Greg just smiled at him.

“Yes, yes she did. If she was any other Alphas child I would probably say she was too young to be doing something so territorial but she’s not any other Alphas child, She’s Sherlock’s daughter through and through so I wouldn’t worry about it John, she was born to be brilliant. See you later.” John managed a choked goodbye and looked back down at his daughter who was still glaring at the door and growling under her breath.

“You’re three days old, how can you be doing that?” He asked the baby but she just blinked up at him ‘ _Your point?’_ she seemed to say and John gave a huff of laughter.

“Sherlock’s daughter through and through, he’s not wrong. You’re going to be a handful aren’t you?”

“Chugah!” Charlotte agreed and John raised an eyebrow at her.

“Of course you will.” He sighed and set off to heat a bottle for his daughter’s lunch.

 

_///_

It wasn’t until that night, after he’d put Charlotte down to sleep in the cot Sherlock had built in their room and lay down to sleep himself that everything came crashing down again. The nightmares were back with a vengeance and John just barely managed to stifle a scream when he shot up in bed so as not to disturb his daughter. Once he’d calmed his rapid breathing, John gave her a once over to make sure she was ok and then sank back against the pillows, trying to puzzle out what had happened. There had been no nightmares since he’d given birth to Charlotte, the hospital had elected not to give him anymore sleeping aids so he wasn’t too deep asleep if Charlotte cried in the night, the morning she was born could be excused by extreme fatigue but the two nights since? There was no reason and he’s even had that lovely dream about Sherlock coming to see him and Charlotte so what could have brought them on?

John sighed quietly and looked over at a photo hanging on the wall that Mrs. Hudson had taken of Sherlock and John when She’d found out about their Bonding/Marriage, Sherlock hadn’t been pleased, never one to enjoy being photographed. He stared at Sherlock’s dour image for a while but the pain at his absence was too much to bear so he got out of bed and turned the photo away. He thought that would temper his unease but the more he looked around the room the worse it became. Sherlock’s shirts were still draped over a chair by a desk that was covered with files from NSY, photos of them both that had been taken in the recent months were strewn about the room and the detective’s aftershave lay open on top of the chest of drawers, the smell filling the small space.

The jittery Omega picked up the bottle and took a deep inhale of the scent inside, it wasn’t quite as nice as it was on Sherlock but it made him feel a little better. It was then that an idea struck John, perhaps the nightmares would leave if he left 221B. At first the idea was absurd and John growled at himself for thinking such a stupid thing as to leave Baker Street but every night the nightmares got a little worse, it didn’t take long, a week at most, before Charlotte started to suffer from his night terrors. It didn’t matter if it was a scream from John in the middle of the night or just plain fatigue from an unrestful, broken sleep, Charlotte was suffering and John couldn’t bear that.

“ _You need to rest so you can look after Charlotte_.” Dream Sherlock had told him and looking down with tired eyes into his daughter’s own frightened ones after another night of screaming, John couldn’t agree more. The next day he called up an estate agents, explaining his situation to the woman on the phone as he changed Charlotte’s nappy, four hours later she called back with an offer of a beautiful, fully furnished, two bedroom house in the London suburbs, two streets away from where he knew Mycroft owned a few properties. At first John was just going to refuse it on principle but curiosity was always one of his more domineering traits so he agreed to at least take a look at it.

 

_///_

 

John hated Mycroft for a lot of reasons, mostly because he blamed the snobby twat for Sherlock’s death but also, a small part of him, hated Mycroft for being right. The house truly was beautiful, every room freshly decorated in beautiful warm colours with the exception of the smaller bedroom which was painted a light purple. The kitchen, which was John’s favourite room, was huge with a set of sliding French doors that led out into a massive back garden with a high, freshly painted fence.

“I was assured that all the furnishings were brand new.” The little estate woman told him nervously when he was inspecting the touch screen refrigerator.

“Yeah, I bet you were.” John snorted quietly to himself.

“I’m sorry?”

“I suppose the price has also just significantly dropped to that of a London flat?” John asked, eyebrow raised.

“Well actually sir, I was told very specifically by the owner to hand over the ownership deed to you if you accepted the property.” The girl, an Omega John noticed upon closer inspection, gulped hard and stuttered through her reply.

“You have the paperwork with you, don’t you?” John deadpanned, eyes closed.

“Uhm… yes.” John nodded and held his hand out towards her.

“Give it here, I’ll have to think about this. I’ll call your office tomorrow to let you know what my decision is.”

“Of course sir, here you are.” Once John had the papers he nodded in thanks and left the house to grab a cab back to Baker Street, arriving home just in time to see Mrs. Hudson having a stare down with Charlotte.

“Dare I ask what happened?” Charlotte struggled in her little bouncy chair when she saw John, desperately reaching for him when he came over to pick her up. Once she was back in his arms, she rubbed her face against his chest and sniffed at him much like Sherlock did those first few months he was pregnant and out of his Alpha’s sight for too long, John looked up at Mrs. Hudson curiously.

“Don’t look at me like that John. She was perfectly lovely ‘til you walked out that door, then she spent the entire time you were away growling and shouting at me as if I made you disappear and lord knows she won’t listen or take a telling. I’m not sure of much in this life John Watson-Holmes but I’m sure of one thing, that daughter of yours is going to be an Alpha.” Mrs. Hudson huffed and left to head back down to her own flat, Charlotte gave one last growl when the old Alpha left the room and then cooed up at John happily who just sighed and stroked a finger down her cheek.

“You are a menace, you know that?”

“Buh!”

“Show off.” John snorted.

“BuhBuh!” _Just like Daddy_.

 

_///_

Later that night, after Charlotte had been fed and changed, John sat on the couch looking through the paperwork for the house he’d seen. It went against every ounce of his pride to accept any kind of help from Mycroft, even if it was free house but… John had someone else to think about, someone who was currently half asleep against the cushion fort John had made to his left on the couch.

“What do you think?” John asked her after another ten minutes of staring at the papers, Charlotte made a little gurgle which John took as ‘ _don’t care, let me nap’_.

“No, no come on. This is important, if I said yes and we moved in would you be happy or growly?” John asked seriously, Charlotte gave a little baby sigh and blinked at him, looking bored.

“Ok fine. Here’s a picture. Now what do you think?” Charlotte let her own curiosity get the better of her and she looked at the photo her Papa had balanced in front of face, eyes going wide at the image as she started to babble excitedly.

“Like it then?”

“Buh!” ‘ _Obviously!_ ’

“Even though it’s your arse of an uncle who’s doing this?” Charlotte pouted almost thoughtfully and stretched her arms up for John to pick her up, which he did.

“Well?” John asked pecking her forehead gently, Charlotte responded by lifting up her hand and running her fingers softly over the bags under John’s eyes before babbling seriously at him.

“I know baby, I need to sleep so you can sleep soundly and get all my attention all day long but still, what would your Daddy say?” John rubbed his nose through Charlotte’s curls, he knew exactly what Sherlock would say and he also knew, that if it was for the good of his daughter, John would say the opposite, Mycroft or no. John gave a great heaving sigh and pulled back from his daughters face.

“Alright, fine. I’ll sign them in the morning though, it’s time for me to change you and put us both to bed.” Charlotte was already asleep in his arms.

 

///

 

The day John moved into the new house there was a parcel covered in pink wrapping paper on his new kitchen table, with Charlotte written in a neat familiar scrawl and a message below the name.

_This was Sherlock’s when he was her age_

_His name in Martin –_

_M_

John pulled off the frail paper to reveal a simple white box with a little stuffed hedgehog inside, Charlotte gave a screech from her position in Mrs. Hudson’s arms when John pulled the fluffy little thing out of the box so he handed it to her with no hesitation. She played with it for the entire day, never once letting it out of her sight, not even when Mrs. Hudson left, after making John promise to visit her, did she look up from the things beady little eyes. She just lay there in her pram, babbling away to it animatedly and clutching it close when John fed or changed her, all the way up ‘til John laid her down in her cot when she fell asleep, still clutching the hedgehog.

After a long night of uninterrupted sleep for both John and Charlotte, the Omega was satisfied he’d made the right decision and once he’d fed them both, changed Charlotte and was satisfied she was happy playing away with Martin the Hedgehog he decided it was time to send a message.

 

**_I’ll only say this once. I’m keeping the house for Charlotte and I’m keeping the toy for Sherlock. This does not mean you’re forgiven and if I see you anywhere near our daughter I’ll kill you. – JWH_ **

**_Understood - M_ **

****

_///_

Days turned into weeks, weeks to months and Charlotte had proven Greg’s theory right, showing everyone that she was definitely Sherlock’s daughter. She was walking confidently by 7 months, talking animatedly by 13 months, potty trained by 17 months and had a nasty habit of getting herself into trouble by being curious about everything or being protective of John. Nearly two now and she still growled at her uncle Greg if he got to close and snarled at every other Alpha that dared breathe in John’s direction, even Harry when she came to visit. John found it a little hilarious when Harry had hugged him and a 15 month old Charlotte had given a battle cry, tackling his sister until she removed herself from John’s personal space. Once she was satisfied that Harry wasn’t going to make another grab for her Papa, she stretched her arms up towards John, gaze still locked on her aunt.

“Papa! Up!” She demanded and looked up at John when he didn’t immediately comply, seeing the raised eyebrow she pouted and grumbled at him.

“Please?” John smiled and conceded, picking her up.

“There was that so bad, princess?” Harry snorted, drawing another glare from her niece.

“That? A Princess? My arse John! She’s definitely an Alpha, I’m telling you, as soon as she presents, it’ll be as an Alpha.” John didn’t really like people saying that about Charlotte, mostly because it seemed like they were all willing her to grow up faster so they could see if they were right and John would rather keep his precious baby as she was thank you very much, he wasn’t quite ready to think about a teenager yet or… _boys_.

All in all life had been going well, every day getting a little less harder, not quite easy but still, better. Charlotte keep growing, her hair now at her shoulders, dark curls bouncing with every step and every day she looked more and more like Sherlock, down to her little blue scarf that she had wrapped around her neck. Well, until she outgrew it anyway, then Martin the hedgehog gained a new accessory, the day she and Martin had come toddling into the kitchen with the blue scarf around the thing’s neck, John nearly laughed himself unconscious, Charlotte pouted at him for hours.

John still had the occasional nightmare here and there, only now if he was shouting in his sleep, Charlotte would toddle through to his room and climb up beside him and shout his name until he woke up, just like tonight.

“Oh, sorry baby, did Papa wake you?” Charlotte nodded, picking at one of Martin’s ears and John pulled her into his arms, rocking her back and forth.

“What’sa Sh-rel-rock Papa?” John froze and looked down at his daughter.

“Where’d you hear that?”

“You yell it sometimes ‘n your sleep.” Mumbled the little girl and John sighed, he supposed there was no harm in telling her Sherlock’s name, though he had preferred to stick with Daddy, it was less painful that way.

“ _Sherlock_ is your Daddy. Remember I told you about Daddy.” Charlotte grinned at him and nodded.

“You said he was a hero, tha’ he saved lotsa people.” John ran his hand through her hair and lay back so she and her stuffed hedgehog where balanced on his chest.

“That’s right.”

“Why don’t he live wiv us?” John frowned, trying really hard not to break.

“Because… he’s gone somewhere special to help lots and lots of other people.” Charlotte pouted thoughtfully.

“Will he come back?” She asked eventually, looking up at John hopefully. He knew he shouldn’t lie to her, it would only be worse in the long run but he just couldn’t bear to lie to that face.

“Of course he will baby. We’ll see him again one day.”

 

///

 

It was a shame John didn’t know how right he was because at that same exact moment Mycroft was in Serbia rescuing a badly beaten, Alpha prisoner with long, matted curly, dark hair and uttering the words.

“Back to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes.” Much to the delight of the man who was chained up by his arms, grinning at thought of seeing his mate and child again.

If only it was that easy.


	2. A Day in the Life… John Edition

It had taken John hours to finally get Charlotte to go back to sleep. She was just at that odd age where no matter how little sleep she’d had during the night, she was wide awake and full of beans from the moment her eyes opened to the moment she crashed. John on the other hand was in his early forties now and had work in the morning so by the time 5AM rolled around, John was just about to fall to his knees and beg his daughter to go to sleep, but as it happened someone, somewhere must have liked John because halfway through bedtime story No. 5, Charlotte pouted up at him and slapped a hand across the page he was reading off of from the big book of fairy tales.

“No more story time Papa, Martin’s sleepy.” She had declared, shuffling around until she was curled against her Omega’s side with her stuffed hedgehog and snoring softly.

“Cheers Martin, I owe you one.” It was obviously sleep deprivation that made John think the stuffed animal had winked at him so to prevent himself from viewing anymore hedgehog related hallucinations, John reached across to turn off the bedside lamp and curled around his daughter until he was snoring softly too. Those three hours of interrupted sleep were like gold dust to John after that, which is probably the reason he and Charlotte had both managed to sleep through the alarm. If it hadn’t been for Greg phoning to find out why he hadn’t dropped Charlotte off at his place, John might just have missed his entire morning of work.

After that it was a mad dash for John to get breakfast made, Charlotte dressed and prepared for her playdate with her Uncle Greg and himself ready for work. By the time he and Charlotte were finally strapped into the car and on their way it was 9:45AM and they were both still struggling to stay awake. Charlotte was still only little though, despite how advanced she was in terms of growth so she ended up losing her struggle with the sandman and dozed off again in her car seat using Martin as a pillow.

John wasn’t used to the quiet during car journeys, Charlotte tended to babble away to her stuffed animal or to John which meant the lack of noise had the Doctor a little concerned so it was a relief to see she had just fallen asleep. John smiled despite his own fatigue and snapped a quick photo of the adorable image on his phone when he stopped at some traffic lights before continuing on to his friend’s house.

Greg was waiting for them at the front door when John pulled up, grinning from ear to ear, looking well rested and holding a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand, the arrogant, show off prat that he was, but he was doing John a favour so the Omega held his tongue and smiled tightly back as he was climbing out of the car.

“Jesus, John! You look like an extra from those Zombie games our Jamie plays!” The big Alpha laughed, John just flipped him off, causing the DI to laugh harder. John sometimes thought that Greg forgot what it was like to have a toddler but then he remembered that even when Greg’s kids _were_ toddlers, they had two parents sharing the load, that Greg wasn’t on his own and then John felt sad that he’d even started that train of though.

“Well aren’t you gonna produce her ladyship?” Greg asked once he’d composed himself, gesturing to John who was leaning against the side of the car deep in thought. John raised his eyebrow and pouted contemplatively.

“That depends, are you finished being a loud mouth arse who won’t wake her up if I open the door?” John asked eventually, deciding to try it out in his best dad voice and nearly breaking into giggles himself when Greg blushed and nodded guiltily. Clearly the man hadn’t thought that Charlotte would be asleep, despite John telling him of the night of never ending fairy tales.

“Then yes.” John said, opening up the back of the car to retrieve his daughter and her things. Greg stepped closer and laid his empty coffee cup on his garden wall, readying himself to take the toddler off the Omega once John pulled back out of the car with Charlotte in his arms and a Minnie Mouse backpack thrown over one shoulder.

“Thanks again for doing this Greg, I know this is your day off and she can be a bit of a handful.” Greg shook his head at John, lifting the little girl into his own arms and plucking the backpack off the Omega’s shoulder at the same time.

“I told you yesterday it was fine John, ex-wife’s letting me have the kids today anyway so the more the merrier.” The DI grinned. John dove in to give him a hug, mindful of his sleeping daughter and wondering, not for the first time, what he would do without Greg. John honestly didn’t know if he would have got through the last two years without the man in his life.

“Still, I appreciate you doing this at such short notice. I’m going to sort out some day care today that ensures stuff like yesterday doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah, let me know how that goes. Why’d she punch that kid in the googlies anyway John? I mean, I know she didn’t mean to hurt him but…” John raised an eyebrow at Greg and they both gave Charlotte a suspicious look, John was never really sure whether or not she meant to do stuff like that but given her parentage, it didn’t look good.

“Let me put it this way. You and the kids best not mess with Martin the Hedgehog or else there’ll be hell to pay.” Greg’s eyes went wide and he shifted Charlotte in his arms so he wasn’t touching the stuffed animal. John snorted at the image, bending in close to give his daughter a kiss goodbye before turning back to get into the car.

“John, can I ask something before you go?” John sighed. He was so very late for work and he really needed to go but he supposed if he was going to be late anyway, he may as well answer Greg’s question.

“Yes? Keeping in mind how late I am for work.” Greg nodded apologetically but still proceeded with his question.

“Are you keeping that?” The Alpha asked, completely straight faced as he pointed at the moustache John had recently grown.

“Yeah, why?” John asked running his fingers over his hairy little friend.

“No reason. See you about two then, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you then.” John, waved a final goodbye and drove off down the street. It wasn’t until he rounded the corner at the end of the road that Greg burst into peals of laughter, unfortunately disturbing Charlotte who let loose a piercing cry at being woken up and so began the Alpha’s day of babysitting hell.

“Bugger!”

 

///

 

By the time John finally managed to get to the large medical centre he worked at, it was already two and a half hours into to his shift and he knew that meant very bad news. He hadn’t even called them to let them know what was going on, too busy rushing around sorting out Charlotte to even think about it. To be honest though, he didn’t really give a fuck, he was only working here part-time for a bit of cash anyway and John absolutely _despised_ the place, he really, truly did.

Most of the Doctors and Nurses just ignored John’s presence unless they had to speak with him in a professional capacity and that was fine with him but then there was the bitchy midwife who taunted him at every turn. She really hated John and the Omega honestly couldn’t tell you why but he could tell you that the feeling was more than mutual. It was only the head Nurse, Mary, and the receptionist, Diane, who were friendly with John and made his day bearable. That’s why he always gave them a smile when he walked in, it was just a shame that Miss Bitchy was standing with them on this particular morning.

“Oh look girls! It seems that Doctor Holmes has finally decided to grace us with his presence!” She sneered when he walked in. A few patients who were sitting looked up from their magazines when they heard her, clearly expecting a show down. John wasn’t in the mood.

“It’s Watson-Holmes and I had a rough night with my daughter.” John growled back, the nasty cow just narrowed her eyes at him and squared her shoulders back.

“Aww, what a shame. Did your daughter prevent you from calling in so we could deal with your patients as well? Maybe you should send her off to someone who can cope with her since clearly _you_ _can’t_.” She snarled nastily with an evil smile on her face. Now John could take a lot of shit but no one questioned his capability as a parent so… he snapped.

“Look bitch-!”

“Okay, on that note I think we should all just get back to work, right Cathy?” Mary wisely stepped in between John and the midwife, shooing the scowling woman away with subtle hand gestures whilst laying a calming hand on John’s shoulder. Cathy gave one last glare before marching off towards her consultation room.

“You shouldn’t let her get to you like that John, you know how much of a cow she is.” Mary said, twining her arm around John’s and leading him off to his own consulting room.

“I know but… how dare she say I can’t cope, I’m coping just fine! It’s none of her bloody business.” Mary smiled at John once they were in the safety of his office and gave him a hug, running soothing hands up and down his back.

“I know darling but you could lose your job if you rise to her bile and then how would you provide for that beautiful little girl of yours, ae?” John squeezed Mary back and buried his face into the Beta’s neck. Mary had been a really great friend to him over the past year he’d known her and really understanding of why John had turned her down when she’d asked him out. She was absolutely brilliant and she was also one of the few people that Charlotte didn’t seem to mind him being around. It was a nice feeling to have a friend like Mary, knowing that someone other than Greg was keeping him right for a change.

“You’re right. I’ll make sure to ignore her for the rest of the day at least.” John said pulling back and smiling at the chuckling blonde.

“Yeah, well, that shouldn’t be too difficult since all your appointments have been seen to or rescheduled.” Mary laughed awkwardly.

“What?”

“Well, we didn’t know where you were and your phones were ringing out so we had to do something. Don’t look like that, you get a day off.” Mary grinned, stretching her arms wide and jumping up and down excitedly in an imitation of something Charlotte did when she saw something she wanted. John laughed at her and Mary joined in, glad she managed to cheer her friend up.

“I suppose it’s just as well. I was going to be leaving early anyway to run some errands.” John sighed, turning around and heading back out the door with Mary trailing along behind him, still giggling a bit.

“Oh yeah? What kind of errands?”

“Need to sort out a new day-care for Charlotte, there was little incident at her old one yesterday and we can’t go back.” Mary snorted at him, shaking her head.

“Only _your_ daughter could get herself kicked out of one of the best and cheapest day-cares in London.”

“I know, she-.” John cut himself when he noticed one of the other Doctors heading towards them with a small, wrapped box in his hands. He didn’t like discussing Charlotte within earshot of people he didn’t know or like. Some people still tried to get in good with press with some gossip about Sherlock Holmes’ widowed mate and fatherless child. Ironically they also usually turned out to be the same people who’d once called Sherlock things like ‘ _Sicko’_ and ‘ _Psychopath’_. Hypocrites.

Dr. Michaels didn’t seem to be itching for some gossip though, in fact his attention was focused completely on Mary and he had this stupid grin on his face. When John found out why, he actually felt his heart drop into his arse.

“Happy Birthday Nurse Morstan!” The man cheered, nodding to John in greeting when he noticed the Omega. John wasn’t paying attention though, his face had gone white as a sheet when he’d realized what day it was. In all the commotion during the morning, John had forgotten that today was Mary’s birthday. He had planned to pick something up for her on the way into work but had totally forgot. John was so deep in his misery that he completely missed the entire conversation Mary had with Doctor Michaels and only caught the end of Mary’s goodbye to the younger man.

“I am so sorry!” John cried before Mary could open her mouth but the Beta just smiled at him and shook her head.

“It’s alright John, I’m not bothered about it. You think I want to celebrate turning forty, I think bloody not. Just look at these wrinkles that appeared this morning! No really, look!” Mary shoved her face into John’s with a ridiculous expression on her face trying to make him laugh but John just felt so bad about forgetting her Birthday that all he could manage was half-hearted smile, Mary sighed.

“Alright, how about this. David booked him and me a table at _The Landmark_ tonight but he got a phone call this morning that his mum’s took ill so he’s gone to see her which means he won’t be back in time so he told me just to go with a friend instead. Now with that in mind, why don’t you find a babysitter for your baby and join me at one of London’s most exclusive restaurants? _And_ since it’s my birthday, you can pay.” Mary gave him an expectant look as John contemplated the option. To be fair he had only planned to get her a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates out of Tesco’s but then again, this was an offer of dinner and adult companionship for the night and no matter how expensive it would be in the end, it had been ages since John had spent a night without story time with Martin and Charlotte, not that John didn’t enjoy it but he was well overdue for some grown-up time. Not to mention he felt terrible about forgetting Mary’s birthday so…

“What time?” John asked grinning, Mary gave an excited squeak and hugged John close.

“Oh this is going to be brilliant! Table’s booked for eight and we can get a cab into town so we can have a few drinkies as well, I’ll swing by your pace around seven alright?” John grinned and nodded, giving her a peck on the cheek and heading for the exit.

“Happy Birthday, Mary. I’ll see you later.” Mary gave him a wave as he left. Now all he had to do was get someone to babysit Charlotte before 7PM… that should be easy, right?

 

///

 

“Sorry John, I can’t. I’ve got plans tonight myself.” John groaned but nodded at Greg who was sitting across the sofa from him in the DI’s newly decorated sitting room, looking at him apologetically.

“No, no, it’s alright. You’ve done enough today anyway. How’s Jamie’s face looking?” John asked sheepishly, looking down at Charlotte who was happily snuggled up in her Papa’s lap, babbling away to her hedgehog. He saw the Alpha, out the corner of his eye, narrow his gaze at the seemingly innocent child who broke away from her intense collaboration with her stuffed animal to shoot Greg a glare of her own.

“Well, his nose isn’t broken but he’ll be a bit bruised, its Sarah’s chewed up arm that I’m worried about. Honestly John, you’re going to have to do something about this possessiveness, I know whose daughter she is but it just seems to keep getting worse. If she’s not growling at every person who looks at you, then she’s tackling people who try to touch _that_ bloody thing!” Greg growled point at the hedgehog in Charlotte’s arms. Bad idea, Charlotte took the noise as a challenge and John barely managed to hold her back from diving across the sofa at the man, her whole body trembling from the dangerous growl she was giving.

“Charlotte enough!” John shouted, giving a dangerous growl of his own. Greg watched in awe as the little girl suddenly went limp her father’s grip and went from snarling to sniffling up at him sadly.

“Don’t start that now young lady, you’ve been very naughty today. We do not hit people or bite them.” John admonished but still pulled the child up so she could bury her head against his neck to take in his scent so as not to incur a wrath of tears but it was too late.

“’m sorry Pa-pahhh!” Charlotte sobbed, clutching to John like he would disappear if she let go and rubbing her head against his shirt miserably. John knew why she never quite learned to not do the bad things he punished her for. It was because no matter how serious the crime, he just couldn’t bear to hear his daughter cry like that so instead of staying firm and punishing her appropriately, John caved and ran his hand soothingly through her hair.

“Shhh, it’s alright. Papa didn’t mean to make you cry baby, just don’t do it again ok?” John cooed, stroking her curls back from her red, tear streaked face.

“O-o-oh-k-kay.” She stuttered and then did something remarkable, she reached out for Greg to take her, surprising both the Alpha and the Omega holding her. Greg reached out warily to take her in his arms, trying hard not to jump when she buried her face against his chest, something she’d never do to anyone else but John since she was born.

“’m sorry Uncal Greg. I’ll not do it ‘gain.” When Greg had saw John cave at the sight of tears, he had let out a long suffering sigh and thought the Doctor was a pushover but when Charlotte looked up at him with big, sad, wet blue eyes, he could do nothing but squeeze the little girl close and rub his cheek affectionately against her hair.

“It’s alright sweetie, I know you’re sorry. Now how about you and I have a biscuit whilst your Papa fixes up Sarah’s arm ae?” Charlotte’s sniffles died down at the offer of a biscuit and she nodded against Greg’s throat, the big Alpha smiled at her and crossed his eyes making the little girl giggle.

“Ha. Not easy to be bad cop with her is it?” John snorted, following Greg into the kitchen. Sarah and Jamie were sitting nursing their wounds and eating their lunch leisurely when they all walked in but they tensed when they saw their father holding a sniffling Charlotte in his arms.

“Yeah, well. Who could say no to that face? Sherlock would be proud.” Greg grumbled handing a Rich Tea down to the child in his arms who immediately started nibbling her way through and offering bits to Martin the hedgehog.

“I know. Natural born actor you’ve got your arms there Greg. I guarantee she’ll be back to her usual growly little self by tea time, right baby?” John asked his daughter, not looking up from cleaning up Sarah’s arm, his only response was a little grunt that made John and Greg burst into chuckles.

“There you go Sarah. Sorry about that. You too Jamie, Charlotte feels very bad for hurting you both and she won’t do it again, promise.” John smiled at the ten and eight year olds who both gave him a quick hug of thanks as they ran past him, heading off up to their bedrooms to play… and hide from Charlotte. Speaking of which, when the terror toddler caught sight of the other children hugging her Papa, Charlotte started struggling in Greg’s grasp until the Alpha put her back on the floor and then marched her little self over to John to tug at him until he picked her up.

“Well, there goes that sweet little angel we were just getting to know and love. Back to the Terror of London.” Greg gave an exaggerated put upon sigh, clutching at his heart. John snorted and threw a tea towel at the man.

“Oi! My daughter is a sweet little angel.”

“Yeah, ok.” John growled at the DI’s nonchalance.

“That’s it! Next time she’s PO’d at you, I’m not holding her back.” Greg just laughed and gave John a ‘ _Bring_ _it_ _on_ ’ gesture until the Omega joined in with the laughter.

“Anyway, do you mind if I leave my car here for a while? I’m heading over to Baker Street for a bit and I’d rather take the tube.” John asked once he’d calmed down.

“Baker Street?” Greg asked confused.

“Yeah, going to see Mrs. Hudson, I was thinking she might be interested in being Charlotte’s new child minder.” John clarified. Greg gave the Omega a worried look, he knew how hard things had been for John when he was a Baker Street and even after he left it still caused the Omega mountains of distress going back for visits. Greg would bet his police pension on that being the reason John had stopped visiting Mrs. Hudson on a regular basis.

“And why’re you taking the tube?”

“Do you not remember what a nightmare it was driving through central London? I can barely stand the work traffic when I’m on my way to the clinic.” John asked, scandalised at the mere thought of driving to Baker Street.

“Fair point. Yeah, no problem, you can leave the car here. What time will you be back for it?” Greg hoped that it was before his special visitor got home, if he and John happened to cross paths, Greg didn’t know what the smaller man would do.

“Hopefully just before tea time.” Greg breathed a sigh of relief and nodded to John that it was fine. John gave the other man another hug when he got up to leave, much to the displeasure of the child in his arms. Greg handed her another biscuit as an apology for touching her Papa then walked the Doctor and his daughter to the door, waving at them as they headed off towards the lane that led to the nearest tube station. Charlotte waved back enthusiastically until the Alpha was out of sight then looked up at her Omega.

“Where we goin’ Papa?” She asked curiously, still nibbling away on her treat. John gave her a smile and nodded towards the station.

“We are going to see Nana. Do you remember Nana?” John asked and breathed out a relieved sigh when Charlotte nodded.

“Will she ‘member us Papa?”

“You know, I have a feeling she definitely will once she sees us sweetheart.” John gulped, he loved Mrs Hudson but the woman had a temper on her like nothing John had seen before and he hoped to God that he and Charlotte wouldn’t be on the receiving end.

 

///

 

The tube journey was surprising pleasant, normally if John took Charlotte on the tube, she would run riot or scream about the number of people crowding in on them but today, the poor little mite must’ve still been knackered from the night before and from her earlier sobbing session. She _had_ given a few half-heated growls at people and glared for a while when she couldn’t find the energy to growl anymore but in the end the rocking motion of the carriage and the warmth of her father had her falling asleep against John with her ever faithful fluffy sidekick tucked under her chin.

She didn’t even stir when John alighted the train to head up through the noisy station to the surface street, the most she did was bury herself further into John when he crossed the road on Baker Street. John didn’t realize how grateful he was that she was sleeping so soundly until he strode into 221B and a hundred sights and sounds ran through his head from the scent of the place. Every memory he had of him and Sherlock battered him all at once and nearly brought his to his knees at the insurmountable grief he felt. He was never so relieved to see Mrs. Hudson in all his life when she strode out the door to see who had barged in but the look of pure confusion on the old woman’s face only intensified John’s guilt at his ever dwindling visits and he only managed an awkward wave with his free hand. Only striding forward when the old Alpha marched back into her flat, leaving the door open for John to come through.

John didn’t know what he expected when he wandered in to the flat but it wasn’t Mrs. Hudson clanging about in the kitchen when she clearly knew there was a sleeping child in the building. John frowned and deposited his daughter down onto the plush cushions of Mrs. Hudson sofa, throwing a blanket over her that he’d grabbed from the arm chair and then strode through to join the woman, making sure to close the kitchen door on his way through so Charlotte would remain undisturbed.

“Hi, Mrs. Hudson.” John cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Hm.” Mrs. Hudson huffed in reply, clicking the kettle and gesturing that John sit at the table, which he did, smiling awkwardly and pulling off his scarf. The smile dropped when Mrs. Hudson resumed her banging, slamming down, her fine china tea set and biscuits, it wasn’t until she slammed down the sugar bowl that she breathed a word to John.

“Oh no, you don’t take it, do you?” She asked pointing to the sugar, John frowned deeper at the angry, hurt tone.

“No.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“You forget a little thing like that.” She continued.

“Yes.” It was almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“You forget lots of little things, it seems.” How could this conversation get any more awkward?

“Uh-huh.”

“Not sure about that.” Mrs. Hudson said, gesturing to her upper lip and John reached up questioningly to stroke at the corners of his moustache, he thought it was rather fetching on him truth be told.

“Ages you.” She finally said and John tried really hard not to be offended by the accusation.

“Just trying it out.” He defended and that seemed to be the moment Mrs. Hudson cracked, snapping at John, all her anger and frustration being poured into four simple words.

“Well, it ages you.” Silence.

“Look…” John started but it seemed that Mrs. Hudson’s snapped response had been the key to opening the floodgates of suppressed frustration that she felt towards John.

“I’m not your mother, I’ve no right to expect it but just one phone call John! Just one phone call would have done.” The Alpha cried desperately, tears forming in her eyes. John’s heart broke at the sight. She was right, she wasn’t his mother but she had still treated him like a son and was absolutely fantastic when John had needed her the most after Sherlock had died. He knew she didn’t deserve to be ignored for months on end and then expected to be all sunshine and light when John suddenly walked back through the door but things had been so hard and he just didn’t know how to cope. The only thing that kept him going was putting 221B and all the stuff that went on there out of his head but that unfortunately meant that Mrs. Hudson was left here all on her own, it was a really horrible thing to do.

“I know.”

“After all we went through!” She continued, her upset growing.

“Yes. I am sorry.” John said finally knowing what he had to say and it seemed to be the right thing because all the fight drained out of Mrs. Hudson and she plopped herself down beside John.

“Look, I understand how difficult it was for you after… After…” She trailed off, looking at John sadly.

“I just let it slide, Mrs. Hudson, I let it all slide and it just got harder and harder to pick up the phone somehow.” John sighed, swallowing and losing himself to the memories of his grief. It took a moment before he could look up back to the old woman and he swallowed again, continuing.

“Do you know what I mean?” Mrs Hudson gave a loud sigh, reaching for John’s hand.

“Yes, I’m sorry John. I just… I’m on my own here and I’ve missed you and that little one. Speaking of which, where is she? I swear I saw you carrying her when you came in.” Mrs. Hudson asked, looking around the kitchen frantically. John patted her hand soothingly and nodded towards the kitchen door.

“She’s through there, she fell asleep on the way here so I just let her kip on your sofa. I hope that’s alright.” The old Alpha’s hands shot to her face and she jumped up.

“Oh I hope I didn’t wake her! I was making so much noise and I didn’t think.” She cracked open the door to check on the sleeping child and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her still fast asleep, curled up against the back of the sofa.

“Oh thank goodness… aww look how much she’s grown since I last saw her!” John smiled at her and bent slightly so he could catch sight of the little girl.

“I’ve missed her so much!” Mrs. Hudson continued and even though John knew they had only just made up, he pounced on the opportunity.

“Really? Don’t suppose you’d fancy seeing more of her then?” John grinned but it didn’t stop Mrs. Hudson from sighing and crossing her arms.

“John, I may be getting on but I’m not stupid. What’re you after?” It really was a lost cause trying to pull a fast one on Mrs Hudson so he told her the story of the day-care fiasco which lead to Mrs. Hudson asking more questions and before he knew it, John was talking animatedly with the old Alpha almost as if he’d never left Baker Street.

“You got new tenants upstairs then?” John asked when Mrs. Hudson started telling him about Mrs. Turners new ‘ _Married_ _Ones_ ’, seems like that last two didn’t work out and ended up going their separate ways.

“No. You fancy a look up there, for old time’s sake?” John swears blind he meant to say _no_ but what came out of his mouth was…

“Yeah, sure, why not?” And before he knew what he was doing, John found himself trailing after the old Alpha, stopping only to pick up a still snoring Charlotte along the way. He’d forgotten how long the seventeen stairs up to his old flat could be when you were carrying something, it had been a nightmare when he was pregnant with Charlotte after the five month mark. It got to the stage where Sherlock had to carry him up the stairs, usually with Mrs. Hudson trailing after them carrying their shopping. The memory faded and he suddenly found himself standing before the sitting room door, again his body failed him because rather than turning back like he wanted to, his body pushed him to open the door with his free hand and stroll into the abandoned room.

It was exactly the way he’d left it when he’d moved out, not a thing out of place and for just one split second, John thought he saw Sherlock sitting in his chair in the darkness but it was just his mind playing tricks on him apparently because the image disappeared when Mrs. Hudson strolled past him, turning on the lights and throwing open the curtains, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process and making herself cough.

“I couldn’t face letting it out.” She said, still coughing and waving her hadn’t in front of her face, John ignored her turning to look towards the bedroom door through the Kitchen, losing himself again to memories, this time of him and Sherlock curled up in bed together… and other things. A sneeze from Charlotte drew his attention back and he looked down at his daughter, still asleep. Mrs. Hudson smiled at the sight.

“He never liked me dusting.”

“No, I know.” John smiled sadly.

“So why now? What changed your mind?” Mrs. Hudson asked, changing the subject back to what they were discussing downstairs.

“Well, I was hoping that you might want to take care of Charlotte when I’m at work? It would only be for three mornings a week for a few hours.” John hastened to add when he saw the stern look cross the woman’s face.

“Oh… alright! But only until you sort something else out, I’m not your nanny!” John laughed at that and then cleared his throat, bracing himself.

“I don’t suppose you could also keep an eye on her tonight?”

“John..!”

“It would only be for a little while! I promised someone I’d take them to dinner.” The Alpha stopped glaring and grinned at him instead.

“A date? Oh John that’s wonderful! Just what you need!” John winced, no, no he didn’t. He didn’t need anyone else in his life.

“No, not a date. She’s just a friend and it’s her birthday so it’s really important. Please?” John pouted and snuggled his face against Charlotte’s cute, sleeping one.

“Oh, fine! But remember, I’m doing this under protest. Now do you want me to have her over here or come to yours? You still live in that big house of yours don’t you?”

“Yes! Thank you so much Mrs. Hudson. Well why don’t you come round to ours now and I’ll cook you some tea as a thank you.” John grinned and Mrs. Hudson couldn’t help but grin back at him, she really had missed John.

“I’ll just go fetch my coat and purse then, I’ll let you have a moment dear, remember to switch off the lights before you head down stairs.” The landlady said in parting, heading off down the stairs and leaving John to take one last look around the room, his eyes finally settling on a dusty photo that rested on the desk. It was taken on the day he and Sherlock had their 20 week scan, Greg had come to pick them up from Bart’s but the couple had been distracted, looking down at the photo in John’s hands. Sherlock was behind the Omega a silly grin on his face with his hands resting on John’s rotund belly. That was three days before Moriarty came back.

This was the second time he’d leave this flat broken-hearted. The second time he’d be walking away from the only things Sherlock had left behind… except they weren’t. John supposed that as long as he had Charlotte, he would always have a living piece of the man who had died almost two years to the day and that was just going to have to be enough to keep John going because Sherlock Holmes was _never_ coming back.

 


	3. A Day in the Life… Sherlock Edition

Sherlock would never admit it out loud but that moment when he had felt Mycroft uncuff him from those bloody chains, he thought he actually loved his brother. It only lasted a split second though before he came to his senses, realizing he was sleep deprived, starving and a little bit delirious from the pain of a three day long beating. It also helped that Mycroft let him crash to the floor rather that catch him, once he was free.

“Uahh! Fat Bastard.” The Alpha groaned, pushing himself to his knees to glare up at the older man who was wiping his hands on a handkerchief, looking at Sherlock in disgust.

“I think the words you are looking for are ‘ _thank you dear brother for coming to my rescue_ ’ and honestly Sherlock would it have killed you to _bathe_ at some point.” Mycroft sneered, nose in the air and offered no help when he saw Sherlock pull himself to his feet painfully.

“No, I meant ‘ _fat bastard_ ’ and it’s a little difficult to find time for a bath when the entire Serbian Mafia has a hit on you and you are running for your life. Now, I hope you realize that every second you stand there yammering, we are one second closer to being strung up by our genitalia.” Sherlock growled, limping towards the door.

“Oh do relax brother, the area has been cleared already, you don’t actually think I came alone did you?” Drawled the Beta, striding past Sherlock to give the door an odd knock, two seconds later a young man dressed as soldier opened the door and gestured for Mycroft to follow him.

“Do try to keep up Sherlock, there is a plane waiting for us on the other side of the compound and it’s due to leave in twenty minutes. You do remember how I detest being late, don’t you?” Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the Beta who was striding off ahead of him and followed behind as quickly as he could.

“I’ll say it again; fat _bastard_.”

 

///

 

They had managed to get to the plane with only seconds to spare thanks to Sherlock’s cracked ribs but those were quickly taken care of by the medical team that Mycroft had standing by.

“Sadly this model does not have a shower installed, I hadn’t thought it necessary to fly out in that one since I assumed you were still washing. A choice I deeply regret now, apologies to you Doctor Rogers for having to work on someone so filthy.” Mycroft directed the last part to the elderly, female Omega who was currently stitching up a gash across Sherlock’s lower back. The smug government official had braced himself for some sort of witty retort from his younger brother so was a little concerned when silence was his only companion.

“Sherlock?” Mycroft prodded, a gentle snore was his only response. Sherlock had finally crashed out, sat upright in his chair and being stitched up. Mycroft, seeing that he was finally free to show his concern, smiled tightly at the sight.

“When you are finished tending to him, make sure you lower the seat and cover him up. He was always a little grumpy if he woke up cold when he was younger.” Mycroft murmured, nodding when the Doctor assured him she would follow his instructions and then headed off to sit up near the back of the plane, pulling out his phone as he went.

“ _Hello._ ”

“Hello, Gregory. How are you fairing?” Mycroft smiled at the sound of the DI’s voice, he had missed him these past weeks, being stuck in Serbia.

“ _Myc_? _That you_? _Why aren’t you calling me on your usual phone_?” He could hear the frown in the Alpha’s voice.

“I was unable to bring my personal mobile on this business trip, too dangerous.”

“ _Dangerous_? _Are you ok_?” The DI fretted.

“Don’t panic, mission accomplished and _I’m_ fine. I just wanted to let you know that I’m coming home.” Mycroft’s eyes were locked onto his brother’s, battered, sleeping form as he reassured his lover of his own well-being and he made sure to change the subject as quickly as possible before Greg caught the inflection in his words. It had surprised Mycroft how much he disliked lying to the Alpha about anything, especially as it was a key part of his job so he tried to keep conversations between them away from the work related arena.

“Thank Christ! When will you be back?” Greg asked excitedly and Mycroft could clearly picture the big grin he was sure covered the man’s face, he was just about to reply when he heard a screech coming from somewhere in the background and then Greg was apologising and excusing himself.

“ _For the love of_ … _Jamie_ , _I told you not to touch the bloody hedgehog_ , _go and put some ice on that and you little Miss Charlotte can just hand over that remote_. _Don’t bloody growl at me missy_ , _I’m not your Papa_ , _I don’t find it cute_. _Thank you_ , _Sarah keep an eye on trouble here will you_ , _I’ll be two minutes_.” Mycroft’s eyes had gone progressively wider the more he overheard and by the time Greg called his name over the phone to get his attention again, the Beta didn’t quite know where to begin.

“Why are you caring for Charlotte?” Seemed like a good place to start.

“ _Well_ , _I’ve got a day off and John had work this morning so I offered my services_ , _I’ve got the kids today anyway_. _Natalie must be in a god mood_ ‘ _cause I’ve got them_ ‘ _til tea time_.” Mycroft frowned despite his lover’s cheerful tone, confused. He was positive John had Charlotte in day-care whilst he was at work so what could have changed over the three weeks Mycroft was gone? Greg clearly knew Mycroft well enough now to know what the man was thinking because he managed to answer the unvoiced question without any prompting other than the pointed silence.

“ _Charlotte took exception to one of the other kids trying to steal her hedgehog so she clocked him one and the minders there felt like she would be better off in another day-care. John says he’s gonna sort something out later today after he picks up madam. Anyway, what time you back at? I’ve missed you._ ” Mycroft was going to have to look into this day-care centre John had been leaving Charlotte with. The nerve of them casting Charlotte out because she happened to hit another child, it’s what children did at her age and Mycroft sincerely doubted they threw out the little thief in the making who tried to steal his niece’s favourite toy.

“I will officially be back in London in around four hours but I have to attend a debriefing which could take some considerable time so I’d say, you best be in my bed for around 7pm. Is that doable for you Gregory?” Mycroft drawled saucily.

“ _Yes, sir_.” Was his husky response.

“Good. Well I’ll let you get back to the children, I believe James sustained some sort of injury whilst in the company of my charming niece?” Mycroft asked, back to business.

“ _Yeah, she cracked him a good one with the TV remote, right across the nose. Think I’ll be having a word with your brother-in-law about his daughter’s violent tendencies_.” Greg laughed.

“Indeed. Well then, goodbye Gregory, I’ll see you tonight.”

“ _Can’t wait… Love you, Myc_.” Mycroft swallowed.

“And you.” He said tightly before hanging up. It wasn’t that he didn’t return the sentiment, it was just difficult for him to verbalize after forty plus years of suppressing such things. Greg understood that and he didn’t push the Beta on it but that just made things a little bit harder for Mycroft, oddly enough.

“Mr. Holmes?” Mycroft’s eyes slid up towards Anthea who had been in the cockpit with the pilot, waiting on a very important message.

“Yes?”

“I have that message, code Green. Here’s the file on the matter, sir.” Anthea smiled, laying the brown folder on the table to Mycroft’s left and stalking off to take a seat further down when Mycroft dismissed her. After staring at the phone for a few minutes longer, Mycroft sighed and flipped the file open.

“Code Green hm? Well at least London’s intact for now, let’s hope it stays that way until you home, little brother.” Sherlock never heard him, still completely asleep but then he didn’t say it for Sherlock’s benefit now did he?

 

///

 

True to his word Mycroft and Sherlock were back in London four hours later with Mycroft practically shoving Sherlock in the direction of the nearest shower in the top secret, government building he was stationed at. Sherlock had a good mind to just ignore the shower in favour of strolling into his older brothers office and rubbing himself over every available surface but then he thought John, sweet, lovely, Omega John who was waiting for him back home with their daughter and he instead swallowed down his defiance and let himself be shoved into Mycroft’s private bathroom.

“I’ve had my assistant call in my personal barber to come and sort out that hair of yours, he also gives a very nice close shave so I’ve requested he bring in his shaving kit with him. He should arrive within the hour so make sure you are clean and don’t take too long. Someone will bring you some clothes shortly.” Sherlock slammed the door behind Mycroft when the man turned to leave, he heard the grumbled ‘ _charming_ ’ through the steel door but didn’t care, too focused on getting his ratty clothes off and jumping into the shower.

“Mmm.” A groan of pleasure escaped his lips when the hot jet of water started pouring over his beaten up body, much to his dismay. He didn’t want to enjoy any kind of order or gift from his brother but after 18 months of bathing in freezing cold water in between jobs, this was just pure heaven. The Alpha made good use of the shampoo and soaps that were littered around him on little shelves, making sure to use the most expensive ones and draining the bottles completely dry with excessive use. That would teach Mycroft to be nice to him.

He was in the middle of washing his now mid-back length hair when he heard the door click open and someone dropping something soft on the counter before leaving, at the sound of the door clicking shut, he let himself finally relax fully into the hot water, feeling so much more secure now he knew no one would be intruding in on his privacy.

“Just you and me now then, been a while hasn’t it?” Sherlock spoke, head thrown back so his face was enjoying the spray of hot water. If anyone had been in there with him, they probably would have thought him mad but it was only Sherlock, who had slowly lowered his head to glance down at his swollen length, bobbing between his legs, almost looking like it was nodding in agreement with him and God, it _really_ had been a while. For the first few months of Sherlock’s mission to rid the world of Moriarty, he had spent nearly every night with his hand down his trousers, not used to denying his sexual urges anymore since mating with John. It was awful as far as Sherlock was concerned because no matter how many times he brought himself to orgasm, it still wasn’t John.

Then, inspiration struck and instead of having a quick wank as he stared up at the ceiling of wherever he was sleeping at the time, he started have long, luxurious wanks to thoughts of John. Sometimes he pictured that first heat, sometimes the many bouts they’d had around the flat but mostly he thought of all the times that never happened, all the things he hadn’t had the opportunity to try with John yet before he had to go and all of a sudden those awful wanks turned into wonderful reprieves from the horror of his days, but it didn’t last. Soon life started getting harder, the missions got longer and more painful, sanitary living conditions became a seldom occurrence and with each new challenge Sherlock’s desire faded until it was completely buried by the need to survive.

It was no surprise to him that the nearly forgotten luxury of a hot shower had caused this reaction and for Sherlock it couldn’t have come at a more opportune moment, he was already late for his appointment with Mycroft’s barber and just the thought of a nice, long wank in the shower whilst his brother fumed in the next room gave him an immense surge of amusement so he reached down and gripped himself tight, hissing at the surprise surge of intense pleasure.

He conjured up the memory of his and John’s bonding from their trip to Grimpen, relishing the image of John riding him as he slowly massaged his hand up and down his cock. He ran through each memory, spending time recalling every sensation John had caused him, every look of pleasure John had given him and every single moment he and John had cried out each-others names in passion until his hand was flying up and down his length whilst his other hand stifled the loud moans and shouts of his Omega’s name. When he came, it took the usually observant man by surprise at how intense it was, it literally brought him to his knees as he painted a thick strip of white up the wall in front of him.

Sherlock knelt there, panting beneath the beat of the water and shivering slightly from the intensity of his orgasm, it almost felt as good as it did when he was with John. Almost, but not quite. Sherlock grinned drunkenly at the thought of soon being with his husband again, it was well worth the two years of agonizing torment to know he was coming back to John and their daughter and oh, he just couldn’t wait to meet her again, see how much she’s grown. It was that thought that gave him the energy and motivation to turn off the shower and get dressed in the soft, black cotton T-shirt and bottoms that Mycroft’s lackey had left for him. He’d have all the time in the world to be petulant and difficult for Mycroft _after_ he got his family back.

Besides, he was already forty minutes late so Mycroft would be sufficiently pissed off enough to keep Sherlock happy, for now.

 

///

 

“You have been busy, haven’t you? Quite the busy little bee” Mycroft drawled at his brother who was laid back in the barber’s chair on the receiving end of a close shave, he heard the flop of a newspaper dropping but didn’t look up from the file he was idly flicking through.

“Moriarty’s network. Took me two years to dismantle it.” That was when Mycroft deemed it prudent to look up at his brother.

“And you’re confident you have?” He asked, smugness dripping off every word and Sherlock, well aware he had a man in Mycroft’s employ with a razor to his throat chose to wisely swallow the insult that had bubbled to the surface in his brain, instead favouring the more mature response.

“The Serbian side was the last piece of the puzzle.”

“Yes, you got yourself in deep there with Baron Maupertius. Quite a scheme.” Mycroft taunted, going back to flicking through the document in his hands, once again, Sherlock chose not to retort which was causing Mycroft to grit his teeth in irritation at his brother’s out of character maturity.

“Colossal.” Mycroft gave up with the file, finally thinking up the perfect thing to get a rise out of Sherlock.

“Anyway, you’re safe now.” The Beta smiled.

“Hmm.” Was Sherlock’s only response and the smile fell from Mycroft’s face with a look of irritation replacing it.

“A small ‘ _Thank_ _You_ ’ wouldn’t go amiss.”

“What for?” Ahh, there it was, that tiny hint of petulance in Sherlock’s voice, the next part was just too easy for the elder Holmes and the smug smile returned to his face.

“For wading in. In case you’ve forgotten, field work is not my natural milieu.” The moment Sherlock gestured for the barber to stop and started pulling himself up with a grunt was the happiest moment of Mycroft’s day so far. He knew Sherlock’s sole purpose for being late earlier was to annoy him so it felt great getting a little pay back.

“’ _Wading in’_? You sat there and watched me being beaten to a pulp.” Sherlock growled.

“I got you out.” Mycroft said pouting. That just irritated Sherlock further and the sinister look he sent Mycroft’s way actually caused a small shiver to travel down the Beta’s spine.

“No, I got me out. Why didn’t you intervene sooner?” There it was, the question that had been burning in Sherlock’s brain since the moment he saw Mycroft sitting in that room in Serbia, it almost hurt him how obvious the answer was.

“I couldn’t risk giving myself away, could I? It would have ruined everything.” No that wasn’t it, Sherlock’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side.

“You were enjoying it.”

“Nonsense.” Mycroft scoffed unconvincingly, Sherlock just narrowed his eyes further.

“Definitely enjoying it.” Aaannnd snap. Sherlock two, Mycroft one.

“Listen, do you have any idea what it was like, Sherlock, going _undercover_? Smuggling my way into their ranks like that? The noise! The people!” Mycroft snarled, Sherlock just rolled his eyes and gave another grunt, laying back down in the barber chair to let the now increasingly impatient man finish off his face.

“I didn’t know you spoke Serbian.” He drawled in an effort to change Mycroft’s whinging to something else.

“I didn’t, but the language has a Slavic root, frequent Turkish and German loan-words. Took me a couple of hours.” Sherlock could hear it, that narcissistic tone of voice that told him Mycroft was proud of himself, show off that he was and he Alpha couldn’t resist one last dig at the man’s pride.

“Hmm, you’re slipping.” He could feel the glare from across the room.

“Middle age, brother mine, comes to us all.” Sherlock was about to retort at the implication that he would go stupid with age but luckily for Mycroft, Anthea chose that moment to walk in and present Sherlock with a brand new designer suit.

“Good enough?” She asked and Sherlock pouted thoughtfully. Eventually giving a great put upon sigh.

“I suppose it’ll do.” It was perfect. Anthea growled under her breath and walked fully into the room, hanging the shirt on the door handle. She didn’t even leave when Sherlock began changing into the suit but Sherlock knew why. Despite her constant presence at Mycroft’s side, she still couldn’t shake off her attraction to _him_ , it was obvious from the way he caught her eyes following his movements through the mirror. Too bad for her he was already taken, still, he gave her a smirk and a wink over his shoulder when he was tucking in his white, Dolce & Gabbana shirt.

“I need you to give this matter your full attention, Sherlock. Is that quite clear?” Mycroft intervened, annoyed at his brother’s immaturity and trying to draw his attention to the terror threat that hung over London but the Alpha chose to instead, aggravate him further.

“What do you think of this shirt?”

“Sherlock!” Hearing the seriousness in his brother’s voice, Sherlock took a second from his amusement to give a serious reply.

“I will find your underground terror cell, Mycroft. Just put me back in London, I need to get to know the place again, breathe it in. Feel every quiver of its beating heart.”

“One of our men died getting this information. All the chatter, all the traffic concurs, there’s going to be a terrorist strike on London, a big one.” Anthea chimed in, annoyed with Sherlock’s nonchalance about the matter. Sherlock just ignored her in favour of slipping on his suit jacket. She wasn’t amusing him anymore.

“And what about John Watson?” The big question Sherlock had been wanting to ask since the second he stepped foot back on British soil.

“John?” Mycroft frowned.

“Hmm. Have you seen him?” Sherlock pressed, eager to find out about his husband and child.

“Oh yes, we meet up every Friday for fish and chips.” Mycroft scoffed sarcastically. Mycroft? See John Watson-Holmes? That was the most unlikely thing that would ever happen in history. John’s promise of murder should Mycroft ever come near still rang true to this day and although Mycroft had the upmost confidence in his security, he still didn’t want to take the risk. After all John was a very good shot. Despite that however, he could see Sherlock’s ever present temper start to rise so he gestured for Anthea to pass Sherlock a file containing information on John’s current status before she left the room.

“I’ve kept a weather eye on him, of course.” A blatant lie, he had John and Charlotte on twenty-four hour security watch but Sherlock needn’t know that.

“We haven’t been in touch at all, to prepare him.” Mycroft added, taking in Sherlock’s horrified expression at the recent photo of John included in the file.

“No.” Sherlock drawled distractedly, taking it the fuzzy monstrosity that covered his husband’s top lip. On the one hand he was so pleased to see John, even if it was only a photo, on the other hand… the bloody moustache.

“Well we’ll have to get rid of that.” Sherlock finally decided.

“ _’We’_?” Mycroft questioned.

“He looks ancient. I can’t be seen to be married to and old man.”

“You’re lucky he’s not here to hear that Sherlock.” Sherlock pretended he didn’t hear Mycroft and sighed, going back to checking himself out in the mirror.

“I think I’ll surprise John, He’ll be delighted.” Sherlock grinned to himself, trying to think of one particular way that would be the best way to surprise his husband. Perhaps lying naked on John’s bed with a bottle of John’s favourite wine would be the right way to go?

“You think so?” Mycroft asked, trying to hold back peals of hysterical, posh laughter. Sherlock was going to die, John was going to kill him and this time Sherlock wouldn’t be coming back to life.

“Hmm, pop into Baker Street, who knows, jump out of a cake.” Sherlock grinned, no need to let Mycroft know about his real intentions but then Mycroft had to go and take the wind out his sails, didn’t he?

“Baker Street? He isn’t there anymore. Why would he be? It’s been two years. He’s got on with his life.” Mycroft felt a small tinge of guilt for the distressed look on his brother’s face but it vanished just as quickly as the expression.

“What life? I’ve been away.” Sherlock scoffed and turned towards the Beta expectantly

“Where’s he going to be tonight?”

“How would I know?” Mycroft asked bored and Sherlock smiled sardonically.

“You always know.”

“He has a dinner reservation in the Marylebone Road. Nice little spot. They have a few bottles of the 2000 St Emilion, though I prefer the 2001.” Sherlock didn’t even feel the need to question who John was going to dinner with, too excited to know he would soon be regaining his mate.

“I think maybe I’ll just drop by.”

“You know, it is just possible that you won’t be welcome.” The Beta said, trying to reason with his younger brother and escape the fate of telling their parents that Sherlock was dead for real this time but Sherlock had never once taken his advice in his life so it would be ridiculous to think that for one second, he would start to now.

“No it isn’t. Now where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“You know what.” Sherlock growled just before Anthea walked in with his coat in her hands, Sherlock gifted her with a grin and allowed her to help him put it on.

“Welcome back Mr. Holmes.” And good God did it feel good to be back.

“Thank you. Blood.” Sherlock directed at Mycroft before striding out the door, he was hallway down the corridor when something important popped into his head but he couldn’t be bothered walking all the way back to Mycroft’s office so instead he just let out a scream of the older man’s name and waited until Mycroft slowly made his way over to his position.

“You called, little brother?” The Beta sneered.

“The suppressants. How long until they’re out my system?” He was going to need his Alpha brain back now he and John were getting back together, needed to know when to bite, when to stake a claim in front of other Alpha’s… when his daughter needed him.

“When was you last dose?”

“A week ago yesterday?”

“Three more days then.” Sherlock gave an internal sigh of relief. That was far more that he could’ve hoped for.

“Very well, thank you. Goodbye then brother. I’ll be in touch.” Sherlock sighed, striding off back the way he was originally going.

“Bye.” He waited until he knew Mycroft was about to head back into his office before he fired a parting shot.

“Do enjoy your evening with Lestrade!”

“Sherlock!!”


End file.
